Just One Week
by damigella
Summary: House spends a week in Baltimore delivering invited lectures. House's POV. Takes place in AU version  or maybe not?  of S7, in which House and Cuddy are together in May. Nine Chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Just One Week  
**Spoilers**: None  
**Summary**: House spends a week in Baltimore delivering invited lectures. House's POV. Takes place in a AU version (or maybe not?) of S7, in which House and Cuddy are together in May.  
**Rating**: NC-17 (M)  
**Word Coun**t: 6200 approx  
**Warning**: h/w slash, no details; mildly verging on noncon, but in a sweet way.  
**Disclaimer**: we own nothing, not even a Jacuzzi.  
**Author's note**: The fic was beta read amazingly well and fast by George Stark II, who corrected the language and saved me from some blatant OOC's. If you haven't yet, go read her stuff on ff. The ongoing The Engagement is a good starting point.

**Chapter 1 Sunday afternoon**

[The previous Thursday]

"Cuddy, I told you already. I will not go if you don't come with me! No discussion!"

* * *

House carefully navigated the stairs with the cane while Wilson carried his suitcase to the trunk of the Volvo.

"I still can't understand how she convinced you," he said after he started the car.

"She tricked me. First she said we would be going there together. Six days, no child, no cases, no clinic… I just had to give four lectures and the rest would be food and sex. The hotel room has a huge Jacuzzi on the private balcony, and there's an official dinner at a restaurant with two stars on the Michelin guide." House sighed. "And then she said she had an important series of donor meetings and canceled on me."

"Well, it's true that the donor meetings were scheduled rather suddenly. It's something the whole Board found out very recently." Wilson scratched the back of his head. "I actually don't understand what I'm doing there. You're the big diagnostician, delivering the famous named lecture series. Cuddy insisted so vehemently I should go with you that I accepted, but I still don't know why."

"I think she trusts you to make sure I don't misbehave. You know, delivering my lectures wearing only my boxers." House paused, considering which of those he had brought would be most appropriate in such a case. "Also, with you nearby I look taller and smarter**."**

"And much, much older."

"Anyway, I know why you said yes. You love the idea of watching me sleep."

"House… are we sharing a room?"

"Cuddy had booked one room for the two of us. Don't worry, it has two beds."

"But she must have changed the booking when she knew she couldn't make it!"

"She was so busy she asked me to do it. So I just changed the name. They had actually booked separate rooms for Cuddy and me, but the hotel agreed to exchange them with one luxury suite without telling the inviting Institute. That's how we go the Jacuzzi on the balcony."

"A Jacuzzi? I didn't even bring a swimsuit."

"I'll lend you one of mine. If you manage to fit in it."

* * *

The hotel was about ten miles away from Baltimore, where the lectures were to take place. Soon they were installed in the most luxurious suite House had ever seen and Wilson was thirty dollars poorer, what with all the necessary tips.

The bedroom had two king beds, the living room had a dining corner and a sofa with large screen TV. There were none of the usual coffee-making amenities; room service (on the room, i.e. paid by the inviting institution) was available round the clock. The huge, sheltered balcony featured a Jacuzzi big enough for four and enough potted plants to look like a garden.

Having seen how beautiful the room was, Wilson decided not to change the reservation. His friend was already busy with the remote, then cursing when he noted that while PayTv was included, porn channels cost extra. House lent Wilson one of his swimsuits and they spent one hour in the hotel's warm swimming pool.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 Sunday evening**

"Who knew that a hotel dinner could be so good?" Wilson opened the belt of his slacks: he really had eaten a bit too much.

"Wine wasn't bad, either."

"You only drank half a bottle. Worried about your first lecture tomorrow?"

"Don't worry, I'm not a girl like you. Not even near my limit. Besides, the morons who invited me insisted that I lecture using Powerpoint."

"You... prepared a Powerpoint presentation?" Wilson couldn't have been more surprised if House had sprouted antlers.

"Obviously not! I just gave the lectures in front of my minions and had Chase prepare the presentation, Taub correct the grammar, and Masters correct Taub and fix the images."

"So all you'll have to do..."

"... is stand there and deliver something that bears the same relationship to a lecture as a microwaved filet bears to a freshly grilled one." House's voice sounded suitably disgusted. But Wilson knew how much prestige and, indirectly, money for their hospital there was in such named lectures, and he knew that House was aware of it.

"That's great. So, what do we want to do now?"

"We go on the balcony and sit in the Jacuzzi. It's a beautiful, starry night."

"But it has to be switched on three hours before, at least."

"Which I did."

"Maybe it's not a bad idea."

"I had the idea, you order champagne. A Magnum."

"That's not included in the room service, you need to pay extra."

"Come on, Jacuzzi without champagne is boring!**"**

When the call to the room service was finished, House was already soaking in the warm water. Wilson undressed and started looking for the damp swimsuit. When the doorbell rang, he wore the hotel bathrobe to open the door and received a bottle, with the bucket to keep it cold, and two flutes.

He stepped out on the balcony. "Here you are, House." He put everything within easy reach of his friend. "Where is my swimsuit?"

"First of all, it's mine.." House paused, tense with the effort, until a happy plop! announced that the bottle was open, "and secondly, there's nobody here so you don't need it. Come on in."

"You want me to step in this... naked?"

"That's the way it's supposed to be. It's very large, just sit on the opposite corner of me."

"Maybe an adjacent corner would be better, so we can both reach the wine." Wilson examined the words he had just said, worried that whatever House had must be contagious. But he couldn't bring them back.

"You see? You got the idea! Cheers!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 Sunday late evening**

One hour later, the Magnum bottle was empty and the moon had risen. House could guess Wilson's body contours now that they had switched off the bubbling effect. His friend looked relaxed in the warm water. He approached him slowly.

"House?" A pause. "House, what are you doing?"

"I would say I'm massaging your shoulders. Or do you think that caressing your upper back would be a better description?"

"Would you... please... stop doing that?" Wilson sounded worried.

"You mean, your lower back also deserves attention? No problem."

"House! Please stop!"

"Why should I stop?" House tried to infuse the best tone of innocence to his question, while drawing much closer so as to be able to put most of his chest in touch with his friend's skin.

"Because... I don't like this. I don't want it."

House's right hand moved fast from Wilson's hip to somewhere nearby on Wilson's body. "I would say, if anything, that you like it too much."

Wilson jumped out of the pool, put on his bathrobe, and ran into the room, while shouting**,** "Maybe I like it, but I certainly don't want it!"

House got out of the pool himself, put on his bathrobe, switched the water heating off, and went in, closing the balcony door. Wilson was sitting on the couch, looking very upset. He sat near him, but not too near.

"Why... why did you do that, House?" Wilson looked positively shocked now.

"Because I thought I would like it. Which I did. And I thought you would like it. Which you also did. I'm sorry if I frightened you." The tone was gentle.

Wilson, who had only rarely heard the word sorry from House's mouth, looked slightly calmer. "You... didn't frighten me. But... I didn't expect it."

"But did you like it?"

"No. That is, yes, obviously, but... no." Wilson put his elbows on his knees, and used both his hands to support his head. It looked a bit too full of complicated thoughts for his neck to hold it on its own.

House decided that, much as he preferred to avoid speaking about such matters, some words of explanation were in order. "I think I might have done things the wrong way. So let me start from the beginning. I agreed to give these lectures against a firm promise of a week of great sex. I do my part and I think I deserve my reward, but Cuddy's not here and none of my favorite hookers are nearby, either. So here's my proposal: I want you to be my sex partner for the time we are here. No strings attached, no after effect on the friendship, and of course no word of this reaches Cuddy or anyone else besides the two of us. Just this one week. I do my job and I deserve my pay."

House was worried of what would happen next; this was the key moment. He didn't expect Wilson to become violent, but he may well declare he didn't want to share a room a minute longer. Or, worse yet, end the friendship then and there, although that seemed unlikely indeed. What he didn't expect was the answer he got.

Wilson was still looking very unhappy. "How did you know I wanted this? Because you knew, right?" He looked straight in House's eyes as he asked the question.

House sighed. "I thought you would jump at the chance, yes. I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise." He thought for a moment. "Remember last time you and I had dinner together at my place?"

Wilson nodded. He remembered well, and it had been too long ago.

"You drank too much and slept on my couch. I went to the kitchen for a glass of water in the night and... I heard you. You were having an interesting dream. I kept listening and... I could hear my name. Several times." House wisely decided that this was not the moment to repeat the precise context in which his name had escaped his friend's lips. "I listened for fifteen minutes."

"And that was it? Just based on a dream?"

"No, then I... observed you." This time both House and Wilson blushed. They both knew what House had noticed. Wilson staring at him whenever possible. And rarely, a very private part of Wilson's body showing how intense his interest was through the soft cloth of his slacks.

Wilson started shivering; he looked ill at ease covered only in a bathrobe. "I think I'll go to bed now." A pause. "My bed**,"** he added. "You stay in yours."

House put on his pajamas while Wilson vanished in the bathroom. He felt optimistic.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 Monday**

House had introduced Wilson as a Member of the Board replacing Dr. Cuddy as hospital representative. Nobody seemed to find this strange; Wilson was given a place in the first row during House's lecture and was invited to the official banquet afterward and introduced to a number of people who were either successful academics or rich or married to one of the first two kinds.

Later, they shared a light dinner in the hotel's restaurant; even House couldn't face a full meal so few hours after the banquet. Before dinner they had gone for a short walk in the woods, House leaning on his cane and, when the footpath got too rough, on Wilson's arm. They were back in their room when it was still early evening.

House didn't like long, complex sentences. "So?"

"So what?"

"Have you made up your mind?"

Wilson didn't even try to pretend he had forgotten. He looked angry. Angry and red in the face and almost fighting tears. In fact, despite the bushy eyebrows, he mostly looked like an angry schoolgirl. "House, I don't want just... just sex for one week."

House thought briefly of this unexpected complication. He had imagined his friend's attraction for him to be a normal hormonal consequence of a too protracted chastity combined with constant exposure to his own attractive person. But of course Wilson, being Wilson, couldn't admit he just wanted sex. Well, he didn't have to admit anything as far as House was concerned.

"Sorry, but these are the conditions. Take it or leave it."

"I don't know that I can do this."

"What are you, a girl? Women want love! Men want sex! I have to pretend the whole love thing with Cuddy so as to have sex with her, I can't do the same charade for you as well." Of course the part about not loving Cuddy was not true, but he hoped Wilson would believe it. Or pretend to. He briefly wondered on how much he would really have to fake in order to make Wilson feel that he loved him, but decided to ignore the question.

Wilson didn't looked convinced, but he looked calmer and more concentrated. He was thinking.

His thinking led to a question. "And how can you be sure I wouldn't tell everything to Cuddy?"

House almost laughed. Wilson's similarity to an angry schoolgirl was growing every minute.

"Because you'll give me your word you don't as part of the agreement. I trust you." That was entirely too easy.

And while Wilson thought about this last statement, House's telephone rang. He looked at it. Dammit! Cuddy. Wilson hearing love words from Cuddy now could totally spoil his chances. So he went to the bathroom with the phone.

"Hi. Any news?"

Cuddy started a long rant about events at Rachel's daycare that House wouldn't have been interested in at any possible moment, and certainly not now. So he just muffled the loudspeaker phone with a towel to make sure Wilson wouldn't hear, and whispered random monosyllables in the microphone whenever there was a pause. Finally it was over.

"That was Cuddy, right?" Wilson looked upset when House exited the bathroom.

"Yes, so?"

"The woman who sent me here to make sure you don't misbehave. My boss. My friend. And your girlfriend. House, how can I possibly..."

House threw away the telephone and the cane and jumped on Wilson, closing his friend's lips with his own. Wilson struggled briefly, then started responding more and more passionately.

Finally they came up for air and House asked "Yes or no? If it's no, we can stop now and I won't ask again. Ever."

Wilson looked like he was now beyond rational thought. This time it was he who jumped on his friend.

* * *

House felt very satisfied. He had been fantasizing about sex with Wilson ever since he heard him speak in his sleep, and the desire to give it a try got stronger as, week after week, he noticed how attracted to him Wilson was. And now Cuddy had delivered him on a silver platter this occasion to do what he wanted without guilt. She had lured him to give these lectures by promising him a week of sex, and now he would get his due: that was simple justice, not cheating.

He had expected sex with Wilson to be less satisfying than with Cuddy, but now he was not so sure. Well, he thought with an evil grin in the dark room, he had a whole week to get a better comparison. And with this thought, he fell asleep, his head on his sleeping companion's shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 Tuesday to Thursday**

When House woke up the next morning, Wilson was dressed and starting breakfast. He answered his friend's "Good morning!" by a calm "Good morning to you. My answer is yes." He still didn't look happy, but apparently he had managed to clarify his thoughts.

House sat near him, still pajama-clad, and started breakfast as well. "I'm happy to hear that. Scratch that, I'm delighted. Now a few simple rules. We behave at all times as we used to do. When one of us thinks it is time to have some fun, and that it's safe to do so, he mentions that he would like to play Scrabble. If the other one agrees, he says yes. And I've even brought a Scrabble along in case someone overhears."

"You were quite sure of my acceptance, I see." Wilson at first sounded bitter, then mildly puzzled. "But what's the purpose of thisScrabble story?"

"It helps us remember that most of the time we have to behave as just friends." House smiled at the recollection. "My supervisor during my nephrology internship introduced me to this trick. We were never caught." Wilson looked like he might want to ask whether said professor was a man or a woman, then realized this was irrelevant and remained silent.

Soon after breakfast they were picked up and brought to the inviting Institute. They had a meeting with the Board, then Wilson was whisked away to visit the Institute's small but very fancy Art Gallery. The Board then made House an offer that left him almost speechless, both as far as the working conditions and the income were. They were very polite about it, said that they would feel like having made a bargain if he accepted, and that he should take his time to decide and add any further requests he felt he may have.

Then Wilson joined him again, and they were both treated to a quick but very tasty luncheon. After that, they were shown into a large office and left alone, so that House could prepare his next lecture. Since the lecture was ready, House decided that some Scrabble might relax him, and Wilson was ready to oblige. Three minutes later House's phone rang.

Wilson took a brief pause. "Do you really have to answer?" then he continued what he was doing.

"It's Cuddy, and she knows my schedule. I have to answer."

"Hello, Cuddy."

"Yeah, love you too."

"No, I'm not prepared yet. We have to keep this brief."

"Yes, yes. And please, don't call me again until the last lecture is over. Mmmmhhh." He gesticulated towards Wilson to slow it down a bit.

"I made a funny sound? I might be catching a cold. Don't worry, I'm in a hospital most of the time."

"Yeah, I'll call you Friday after the last lecture."

"I love you, too."

House closed the phone, but the sound of its falling to the floor was completely obliterated by the very loud moan that escaped his throat. He hoped the office walls were thick enough. He silently decided that from now on they better avoid Scrabble on the Institute premises.

One hour later, Dr. Gregory House delivered another masterful lecture. If anyone had paid attention, they might have remarked that Dr. Wilson's hair was somewhat less elegantly styled than it had been in the morning. But as he was not the one lecturing, nobody noticed.

From then on their week proceeded on a double track. In public, they were just Dr. House the Star Diagnostician and Invited Lecturer, together with Dr. Wilson the Member of the Board; once they were safely in the privacy of their room, House (if he wasn't hungry or too tired) would mention playing Scrabble, and Wilson would agree. The mild weather continued and they thoroughly enjoyed the Jacuzzi on the balcony.

The only exception was on Wednesday, when a very pleasant day trip had been planned by the organizers. House claimed that he was slightly sick and needed a day of rest in the hotel. They asked if he needed medical attention but he pointed out that the accompanying Board member was also his personal physician.

"You lied to them."

"Not really. You are my personal physician. And you are going to spend the day taking care of my physical well-being in a way you couldn't possibly do if we were taking part in a day trip."

"Am I?"

"Yes. We can write a joint paper later about the curative properties of Scrabble."

Wilson returned House's smile. "Scrabble it is. A day of nonstop Scrabble."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 Friday to Saturday afternoon**

The last lecture was finished and everybody was relaxing at the wine bar. House went on the balcony to call Cuddy.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"I missed you, too. Especially Patty and Selma."

"The lectures went very well, but I spent Wednesday at the hotel. I was feeling under the weather and took the occasion to fix a few last minute details in Lecture 4."

"No, I don't think he was too bored, but I'll thank him from you."

"Yes, I'll let him drive tomorrow. I'll be with you around dinner time."

When House went back to the wine bar, Wilson was nowhere to be seen. He didn't worry too much, and started walking around the room, saying goodbye to the many people who had been kind to him. He normally wouldn't have done that, but he knew that Cuddy would have been pissed if he hadn't. That's what he told himself at first; then he chuckled and admitted to himself that, between the week of nightly sex with Wilson and the prospect of a very warm welcome from Cuddy, he was really in a good mood and being friendly to people he didn't care about came almost natural.

Wilson came up to him about half an hour later, said he had a headache and asked whether they could go. Even in the dim light of the bar he looked very pale, so House agreed to go as soon as they could politely disengage themselves.

When they closed the door to their bedroom forty minutes later, the harsher light revealed to House that Wilson was not only pale but looked like he was in physical pain.

"Do you need a painkiller?"

"No, I… I already took one. I'm feeling better." He forced a smile. "We can… play Scrabble if you want."

"Come on, Wilson, I know you're a people pleaser, but I can do without one evening! You're obviously sick and need to take care of yourself. Don't worry, Cuddy will be more than happy to play Scrabble with me tomorrow evening."

At this, Wilson looked even more sick than before. House convinced him to get one more painkiller and a sleeping pill and was relieved to hear him quietly snoring half an hour later. He figured out something at the party must have triggered one of his friend's rare but debilitating migraines.

* * *

The next morning when they woke up Wilson seemed fine and didn't even mention the previous evening's problems. They had breakfast, packed and (at House's suggestion) played one last round of Scrabble before they had to vacate the room. They left the hotel around eleven, and around one House started grumbling that he wanted his lunch. Wilson left the interstate, ignored his suggestions (including a Burger King and a Steakhouse) and drove through smaller and narrower streets until they arrived at an isolated house, whose ground floor was occupied by a small restaurant which claimed to be French.

* * *

"Hi. I have reserved a table for two."

"Welcome**, **Mr. Wilson, we were expecting you."

The place was simple but clean; the waiter led them to a table set for two. The dark wood was covered by a tablecloth with a white and red square pattern.

"Will you explain to me what we're doing here? We'll be at least an hour late, if not two!"

"The service tends to be a bit slow here, so I ordered for us ahead. And the food is fantastic." Wilson pointed to a nearby chair with a pillow. "Put your leg up, it will help ease the strain of sitting in the car. We still have a long drive ahead."

House was ready to start grumbling when the bottle of Cote du Rhone and the appetizers arrived.

Ninety minutes later, a very happy House sipped his coffee and smiled. "The food was really great. Unbelievable, in such a middle-of-nowhere place."

"It actually has one star on the Michelin Guide."

House was suspicious. "So how come there's only us?"

Wilson smiled, a little crow's foot showing at the corners of his eyes like every time he felt he had fooled his friend. "It's usually closed for lunch. But they're willing to make exceptions."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note-reminder**: The _whole_ fic was beta read amazingly well and fast by George Stark II, who corrected the language and saved me from some blatant OOC's. You can't imagine how much better it is because of that.

* * *

**Chapter 7 Saturday evening**

As soon as they were back on the interstate House called Cuddy.

"Hi. We're slightly late, but there's no traffic and I should be with you for dinner."

"Your sister is coming over with your mother? And they're spending the weekend?"

"Okay, I got it. I'll see you Monday morning in the hospital."

He snapped the telephone closed, sighed, and turned to Wilson. "Can I come and have dinner at your place? Mine looks quite depressing now that I mostly live at Cuddy's".

Wilson said "Sure" but didn't smile back, keeping a concentrated expression while overtaking a huge truck which seemed to have trouble staying in its own lane.

* * *

Once they arrived, Wilson ordered pizza and beer, which they ate in front of the television, enjoying a General Hospital rerun together. That is, this is what House thought, until he noticed his friend's deep, unbroken silence and untouched food. When the soap was over, he didn't try to find something else, but switched off the television altogether.

Wilson was sitting on the couch not in his usual position, relaxed and close to him, but in a corner, muscles tense, not leaning on the couch with his back. He looked at Wilson's eyes and just asked**,** "What's wrong?"

A surprisingly long silence followed. Wilson didn't look back at him, but rested his forehead on his palms. Finally a few words hesitatingly filtered out. "House... we have to talk."

"About?"

"Last week. Us."

"Last week is over and there's no such thing as us. We had a clear agreement and I expect you to keep your part of it."

Wilson clearly tried to calm himself down with a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry, House. You're perfectly right, of course. I should have refused from the beginning."

"Why? Are you feeling very moral now, after all the times you committed adultery in the past? Or does it only count if it's same sex? Or your boss is involved?"

"No. I should have refused because... because I love you. And as much as I enjoyed having sex with you, it wasn't worth how much I suffer now at the thought that I was basically your... your... unpaid whore." Wilson was obviously fighting tears. "I told myself that it was just one week, and that for one week I could pretend you were mine. Pretend Cuddy didn't exist. That you loved me. I deserve no respect. Not yours, not Cuddy's, and certainly not my own. I... I hate myself now."

House felt guilty. He realized that Wilson had tried to say that before, that he would have understood if he had thought of anything else but his own selfish pleasure.

He moved closer, put an arm around his shoulders and forced himself to speak. "Wilson, you are not... a whore. You didn't do anything wrong. It was… just sex. Fun. And it was just one week."

Two brown eyes looked directly in his. "I only wish we could be together. That you would love me, not just want sex with me. Then it would be right. It would be beautiful."

"It may not have been right but it was certainly beautiful. But I love Cuddy, and you know it and knew it. I just took what I felt I had a right to, but I'm otherwise a faithful partner."

"I know." Wilson paused. Then he asked, in a low voice: "Can we sleep in the same bed tonight? I... I won't touch you. But I got so used to feeling your warmth near me."

House nodded his assent.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 Sunday**

Breakfast on Sunday morning was a very sad business.

House and Wilson looked forlornly at each other, each of them toying with toast. Wilson didn't feel safe cooking after having slept less than two hours during the night. He had tried to move as little as possible, so House was properly rested, but he was bothered both by a nagging sense of guilt and, deeper down, by an annoying sensation that he was feeling guilty towards the wrong person and that he should consider why.

"Wilson, let's stop pretending we're having breakfast. I'm bored."

The oncologist tried hard to think, his throbbing headache not being a very big help. Hopefully the prescription strength painkiller would kick in soon. But finally he came up with something. "Why don't we rent a canoe and go paddling? It's a beautiful day and some fresh air will do us good."

"Why not? It's also a great sport for a cripple."

* * *

Fitting House in the canoe had required some ingenuity, especially since the cane had to stay at the rental shed. Once this was done, though, it was obvious that he was much better than Wilson at paddling, and he occasionally told his companion to just pull in his oar and rowed alone.

The day was indeed beautiful and sunny. They decided to row against the current, so as to have it favorable on the way back. They had bought sandwiches and brought enough for a picnic on the riverbank. They didn't talk while paddling, except at the beginning when House tried to raise Wilson's paddling style, as he put it, from the disastrous into the mildly pathetic level.

House obviously enjoyed the physical effort, and was in fact considering whether it would be reasonable to buy a canoe and do this on a regular basis. Wilson was aching all over after the first thirty minutes, but he gritted his teeth when he saw (by occasionally turning around) how relaxed and happy House was.

At lunch they carefully avoided the mention of any delicate topic; mostly Wilson talked about his family's small sailboat when he was a teenager, and House about his rowing team experience in college. After lunch, they relaxed in the sun and Wilson had a nap, while House looked at him and thought.

Then it was time to go back; Wilson had to admit his back was killing him (as he was sitting in front of House he couldn't really hide it) so House with the help of the current brought them back at the little beach in front of the rental booth while his friend rested. The rental guy brought the canoe on land, and Wilson helped House to get out and handed him his cane.

They went back to the condo and ordered takeout.

* * *

They had finished dinner, and were now sitting together on the couch. The television was switched off. Wilson had leaned his head against House's shoulder, and House was stroking his hair. They both knew they shouldn't be doing this, but it was impossible to resist this simple comfort.

Suddenly, House spoke. "I've been thinking today. On the canoe. And while you were sleeping." Wilson lifted his head, and looked at him.

"If there were no Cuddy..." He was struggling for words. "We could try."

Wilson smiled sadly. "We should have tried before."

"We should have." House stood up and took his jacket. "I think I should be going home now."

"Of course." Wilson looked heartbroken. "I'll drive you."

Ten minutes later he stood in House's living room, having brought his suitcase into the bedroom for him.

"It was a beautiful week, Wilson. Please don't blame yourself."

"I'll try. It was just one week after all." House felt that it took Wilson all of his strength to walk out and into his car. He looked through the window and saw the oncologist sitting in the parked car for a while, before he finally started the engine and drove away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 Monday**

Monday morning at 10 am House entered the hospital. He hadn't slept well and was less eager to see Cuddy again than he should have been.

He went to her office and sat in front of her, in one of the visitor's chairs. He scratched his head, pensively.

"Hi, Cuddy. How was your weekend?"

Cuddy lifted her head and smiled. "Don't make me talk about it. At least it's over. On the plus side, I got impressive reports about your performance in Baltimore. Particularly about your clear high-level lectures and, incredibly, your politeness at the final reception."

House smiled back. "I guess you're surprised. Wilson made me behave well." He scratched his head again, this time a bit longer.

Cuddy narrowly eyed him. "House... did you do it?"

"Do what?" He scratched his head. It felt itchy.

"Buy and use the lice shampoo. I told you in my first phone call that Rachel got lice at daycare."

House gasped. He knew of course when and why he missed this information. Now he had to make sure Cuddy didn't realize it. "I... I didn't think it was important. I thought it's a children thing."

"Children pass lice to each other because they are physically very close when they play. I probably caught them by keeping Rachel in my lap and having her head against mine."

"But I had a sore throat the week before Baltimore. I didn't come to your house, I didn't even see Rachel at all."

"You saw me, House. Up close and personal. It's basically the only way lice migrate among adult humans."

"I... uh..." Now that he thought of it, he had been scratching his head a bit often recently.

"Don't worry, I have found a very efficient shampoo. Just don't get near me until you've used it." She wrote the name on a sheet of paper, which he pocketed.

Someone knocked on the door. "Come in!" said Cuddy. Wilson came in with a stack of administrative reports, which he dumped on her desk.

"Hi, you both. Here you are Cuddy, as you can see Oncology works well even when the Head is away."

"Thank you very much, Wilson. And even more for the great job you did last week."

"Don't thank me. You know, I'm used to taking care of House." As usual, Wilson expressed his embarrassment at the compliment by scratching the back of his head. Only, this time he kept scratching.

He then scratched a bit also over his ears and added, in an apologetic tone: "I think the hotel shampoo didn't agree with my scalp. It's been increasingly itching in the last few days."

"I think I know what your problem is." Cuddy said, looking for something in her handbag. "Wilson, can you please sit down? Let me have a look." She walked around the desk until she stood behind him; she then first parted his hair with her fingers, then combed through it for a while. Finally, she put a white, fine-toothed comb on her desk. There was one tiny dark spot on it. It was moving. She returned to her seat, after moving her fingers briefly through House's hair.

"It's not a shampoo problem. You have head lice." Cuddy's tone was calm and even, the mild satisfaction in it of a doctor having come to a final diagnosis.

Wilson looked at it, still incredulous but unable to deny the living proof still moving in front of his eyes. "Why would I have head lice? And how would you know?"

"Don't worry, you got them from House. He was scratching before and I now checked that he has nits on his hair. It's all Rachel's fault, really." She looked at Wilson with a saucy smile. "I wonder what precisely the two of you were doing together to have your heads so close. I hope you didn't take my request to replace me in caring for House too literally?"

House laughed effortlessly at the joke. But then he noticed that Cuddy wasn't smiling anymore. Her eyes had opened wide, and she was staring at Wilson. He turned around and looked at him, too. The oncologist had turned waxy pale, and his facial expression was basically the equivalent of a "guilty as charged" written on his forehead.

"Wilson, did you have sex with my boyfriend last week?" Cuddy's eyes looked like blue-green diamonds, shining through Wilson's face and conscience. House saw him open his mouth to try and lie, then close it again as the now intense redness of his cheeks, throat and ears rendered such an attempt futile.

Cuddy started speaking again, her tone raising almost at every syllable.

"So let me see if I understand what happened. I couldn't accompany you, House, and you decided that Wilson could replace me in all roles I usually play? Or was this already a habit? Wilson, how long has this been going on exactly? What did you both think you were doing?"

She didn't give either of them a chance to interrupt. Her voice became even higher. The door was not closed, and by now people were standing silent in the corridor outside and listening.

"I don't care a damn if two of my Department Heads want to fuck each other. It's your right and none of my business as Dean of Medicine, so long as it doesn't interfere with your work. The only thing which bothers me is that one of them is my boyfriend, and the other a friend of mine!"

She briefly caught her breath, and resumed speaking at a slightly lower tone, although one still clearly audible for the growing group of listeners a few steps from the door.

"Luckily, both these problems can be solved. As from now, House, you are no longer my boyfriend. I'll have your stuff delivered in your office later today. Don't ever address me again except on professional matters."

"As for you, Wilson, I trusted you. I won't in the future."

She had kept her composure so far, but anger and jealousy overwhelmed her. "And now out of here, both of you pigs! I want you to take a free day today, because I can't stand the sight of either of you and I have work to do! And you're both spending the next weekend in the clinic! OUT!"

What was now a crowd around Cuddy's office had to beat a hasty retreat to avoid the sudden exit of the two Department Heads. They went straight to the elevator and came back together a few minutes later, Wilson now in his street clothes, workbag in hand, and got out of the hospital, in the direction of Wilson's car.

"I'm sorry, House. It was all my fault."

They were back at Wilson's condo, and its owner was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. Normally he would have felt humiliated buying and using lice shampoo but in his sorrow he hadn't even noticed.

"If I had been able to just keep my face straight and laugh, nothing would have happened. Now I've hurt both of you. I'm so stupid."

House wasn't sitting. He was standing near the window, looking out.

"I had promised Cuddy wouldn't know and then… I was so upset by a stupid louse I completely lost control." Wilson was close to crying now. "I'm sorry."

Two strong hands cupped the sides of his face, forcing him to look into a pair of blue eyes. "Shut up. The only stupid thing you did was accepting my offer."

House's hands were gone, he was sitting on the couch nearby. "I have been as obsessed with your body since that night as you with mine. I told myself that it was just an itch I had to scratch."

"And…was it?"

"No. Today I would have told Cuddy I needed time off from our relationship."

"Time off?"

"To think about what I want. What I really want."

Wilson looked up with a hopeful smile. "Does this mean…"

"If you still want it, after what I've done last week, we can try."

He didn't think his recent behavior made him deserve happiness and love. But the brown eyes looking at his clearly told him that he was about to get what he did not deserve.

* * *

**Epilogue: Two months later**

_Press Release _

_The Johns Hopkins University is proud to announce that Dr. Gregory House, former Head of Diagnostics at PPTH, has accepted an appointment as Head of the newly created Diagnostics Department of the University Hospital. _

_Dr. House's life partner, Dr. James E. Wilson, former Head of Oncology at PPTH, has in the same occasion accepted an appointment in the Oncology Department in the same Hospital._

* * *

**Author's note**: this fic stemmed from my desire to write a sick!Wilson story with a disease which I was an expert of, together my desire to make House hurt Cuddy (a side effect of the Huddy arc). Many people, including my beta reader, objected against a cheating House. To me, he seems only human: he was even sleazier in the unbeta'ed version. That's what people do when they are in a relationship and fall in love with someone else. Even people like House, and this includes pretending it's just sex. The last conversation has been added in the hope of clarifying things a bit and is unbeta'ed.


End file.
